Chapter 29
[Stone]
Taxi is completely addictive. The way she kisses me. The stories she tells. During dinner, she told me more about her travels. The places she’s seen and the murals she’s painted.
I’m grateful the conversation shifted to something lighter. Neither of our lives has been easy and that could make us bitter. Instead, we try to be better people because of it.
After dinner, she hip checks me out of the way by the sink, insisting that she do the dishes. “You cooked. I clean.”
The moment feels so domestic, so right, and I worry I’m getting ahead of myself.
While we’ve exchanged a lot about our pasts, the present Taxi is the woman I want to discover more about.
“Stay here tonight,” I blurt, when the clean dishes are put away, and the wine bottle is empty.
I tug her to me like I did earlier, pulling her between my spread thighs as I lean against the kitchen island.
I like how easily she fits against me. How we click together.
I run my hands over her hips and up her sides.
“I just want you to stay a little while longer.”
The invitation might have an even deeper connotation.
While I’ve heard her tell Simon she’s staying, to take care of Trudy in the immediate future, there’s no guarantee Taxi is staying for the long haul. I’d never want to hold her back. I’ve already been in that position once before.
Still, a deep-buried part of me wants her to stay. Wants her to know me better as well. The broken pieces I carry, because she’s the first person I’ve let see them, and she isn’t judging me for them.
Taxi leans into me again, tipping up on her toes to kiss me. Her lips are warm and soft, and she tastes like red wine and brightness. An array of colors I hadn’t known I needed in my life.
“Plus,” I mutter against her lips. “I have a bigger bed.”
I don’t have a problem sleeping at Trudy’s, but I did feel out of sorts after what happened last night, and that it happened on Trudy’s bed.
I want Taxi in mine, and I haven’t ever had a woman here.
With Vale and Hudson in the house, bringing someone home felt like a monumental act, and I’d never had someone so large, so important, so consuming that I’d wanted to bring here.
Until now.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I add, knowing it’s the truth. I’m happy to hold her and kiss her and nothing more. I’m not interested in pressuring her.
“What if I have things I want to do?” she hums, running her hands over my shoulders and down to my elbows then back up my biceps.
My body shivers, desire rippling through me in a way I can’t recall ever happening. But it isn’t the anticipation as much as her touch. I haven’t been touched like this in so long, I almost feel deprived.
Her hands caress and her fingers tickle, causing another tingle to run up my spine.
When her fingers brush near the gauze on my arm again, she glances down at the bandage. Her brows pinch. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her concern for me, over what I consider a minor scratch, also endears her to me. Taxi’s concern for others is a common trait. The way she has explained immersing herself in communities and areas where she paints. She cares about others.
But that bone-deep concern, the one that comes from some place buried within her, is something I think she only shares with those she loves. Not saying she loves me, but the concerned expression on her face only comes from getting close to her. Her allowing someone to be close to her.
“I don’t like that you were hurt on the job,” she adds.
I press a kiss to her forehead and reassure her. “I’ll be fine.” Minor injuries like this one are part of the job. And my job is the last thing I want to think about tonight.
My hands glide over her backside again, and I pick her up, startling her by the move. The action pulls at the stitches, but I want this woman in my arms.
Instantly, she wraps her legs around me and circles her arms around my neck, trying to take the pressure off my arm.
“Let me see that bigger bed,” she whispers, before kissing me again.
I carry her to my room, where we fall awkwardly onto the king-sized mattress.
Taxi’s been picking on me for my love of the color beige, and I anticipate her having something to say about my room. A simple slatted headboard, the mattress on a low platform. Plaid green comforter. A matching set of nightstands and a single upright dresser.
But Taxi doesn’t look around the room. Her eyes stay locked on mine as I perch up on my arm and run my hand down her body.
Over the denim overalls that shouldn’t look so enticing on a woman, and yet do.
The coverup like a shield, constantly making me wonder what lies beneath the baggy clothing.
Who is the woman inside the loose denim?
While I unhook one clasp, Taxi unsnaps the other. Then I cover her hand.
“I didn’t get to see you last night. Didn’t take my time with you,” I admit, as what happened only last night was rather unexpected. But because I’ve been a patient man, having not been with anyone in years, I want to savor this moment. I can be patient a little longer.
“I want to take my time with you tonight,” I admit.
Taxi’s eyes lock with mine and her throat subtly rolls. “Okay.” Her voice quivers.
When I pull the front flap of her bibs down to her waist, a form-fitting shirt hugs her curves underneath. From the sharpness of her nipples, I can tell she isn’t wearing a bra, but it’s the color of the shirt that holds my focus a second.
“I think you kind of like beige, too,” I tease, running my hand right down the middle of her body, between the valley of her breasts and over her belly.
“This color is actually called nude.”
“Hmm. A color I definitely want to see on you.”
She chuckles, jostling her body and giving me a wide grin.
But I’m serious. “I almost don’t know where to start. I want you everywhere.” I feel like a horny teen on the verge of exploding, and yet, I want to take it slow with her. Discover every dip and curve. Every swell and valley.
With that thought, I cover her breast and squeeze, and Taxi’s eyes flutter closed.
“Feels like a good place to start,” she whispers.
I knead the firm swell, covered completely by my hand, then pinch her nipple. Her mouth falls open and her back arches, forcing her deeper into my palm. Leaning forward, I blow on the other nipple, then open my mouth and nip her over the thin layer of her shirt.
“Stone,” she moans.
“Let me take care of you.” I circle my nose around her nipple, teasing the pert nub with the tip.
I lower my hand to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head.
Once she lies back again, my eyes drink her in.
My personal mural of bronzed sunshine and deep browns.
I’m not as colorful with language as Taxi.
Not as appreciative of art, but I’m a converted man in this moment.
“Stunning,” I whisper before diving in again, taking one pert breast into my mouth, swirling my tongue around her nipple before sucking at the full swell only to pull off her with a pop.
Her fingers dig into my hair, scratching over the back of my head and then trailing to the front again. Goosebumps ripple over my skin.
I move onto her other breast, cupping it in the palm of my hand, feeling the weight before diving in to give it a teasing flick with the tip of my tongue.
While I’m still in the midst of enjoying her breasts, Taxi gently presses my shoulder.
“Let’s see what the color nude looks like on you,” she purrs.
I roll to my back, and Taxi straddles me, letting her bib overalls fall to her waist, baring her upper half to me.
Slowly, she tugs the snaps of my shirt. I changed out of my uniform while dinner was in the oven and slipped into my favorite worn jeans and the same snap button shirt Taxi often teases me about.
With each snick of a snap being opened, my heart seems to skip a beat. I’m so hard. And with her in my lap, the worn denim on me does nothing to disguise what she’s doing to me. My hands come to her hips, plucking free the additional buttons along the waist of her bib overalls.
She rolls over the hard length in my pants and shoves the two sides of my shirt wide apart. Her delicate hands start at my belly and coast up my chest, fingertips sliding through the thatch of hair.
“Been wanting to run my hands here,” she admits, speaking directly to my pecs. Her brows pinch like she’s almost puzzled by the admission. As if she isn’t certain why she likes it, but she does.
For me, I close my eyes, letting her explore. Letting her run her hands over my pecs and around my shoulders, then skip back to my chest and slide down my abs. My belly flinches as she draws around my belly button.
“Ticklish?” she teases.
I don’t answer. I don’t have one. It’s been so long since someone’s touched me, I don’t know if I’m ticklish or not. But I’m sensitive to her touch. To her long fingers and warm palms running over my heated skin.
“Let’s get this off of you,” she says, and I jackknife upright, jostling her in my lap and catching her with my hand on her ass to keep her close. She presses at the fabric covering my shoulders, then slows, taking her time to carefully remove the right sleeve over my forearm.
Her brows pinch again at the sight of the bandage.
“Taxi,” I whisper, drawing her attention back to my face. I cup the back of her head and pull her to me for a mouth-watering kiss. Teasing her tongue with mine. Invading the warmth of her mouth. Melting under the heat of us like this.
I lean back, bringing her with me, gasping into her mouth as her breasts brush over my chest. Her nipples are tight and hard, tickling against the hairs on my chest. She presses at my shoulders, breaking the kiss and sitting up over me again.
I drink in her body and lift my hand to the left side of her chest. I draw a star shape against her warm skin. I don’t have words for an oath tonight.
Taxi flattens my palm against her chest instead, placing her hand over the back of mine.
We simply stare at one another, and while I want to beg to know what’s in that pretty head of hers, she lets go of my hand and reaches for the button on my jeans, distracting me.
“Taxi,” I whisper.
She doesn’t answer other than scooting herself to my thighs and lowering my zipper.
“You took care of me last night. Let me have the pleasure tonight.”
“That’s not—” My thoughts cut off again as her hand covers the thick length of me, bulging out from the opening of my pants.
“Hush,” she warns, working my jeans, along with my boxer briefs, over my hips and lowering them to my thighs. She gives me her signature hum, and I close my eyes, memorizing the sound.
When her warm fist wraps around where I’m hot and throbbing, my eyelids fling open again. Taxi is intent on where she strokes me up and back, squeezing me harder with each pass.
“Taxi. Baby.” I groan. This hadn’t been my intention. I didn’t want to go first, but I’m totally under her spell, captivated by her and her touch. Her hands tugging with just the right amount of pressure, better than anything I’ve ever felt.
“Taxi,” I warn, my eyes involuntarily closing again. My jaw clenches. “It’s been so long and I . . .”
Suddenly, the tip of her tongue slides across the wet slit of my tip.
“Fuck,” I grunt, reaching for the back of her head again. My other hand reaches up for the slats above my head, and I grip the iron, holding on, like my resolve is slim, losing my battle for restraint.
One of her hands comes to my hip, pinning me down a second as she draws me to the back of her throat, then glides to the top again. Back and forth, she slides up and down, teasing me with release and then swallowing me once again.
Eventually, my hips thrust upward, breaking her hold on me, and I feel her smile around my heavy cock.
I glance down the expanse of my body to see those silvery irises looking up at me. I’m mesmerized by the gleam in her eyes and her mouth surrounding me. She cups the heavy sacks at the base of my dick, gently rolling them through her other hand as she sucks harder, draws me deeper.
“Taxi,” I choke, gripping the back of her head harder, while on the verge of snapping the headboard slat.
She hums around me, and I shatter.
Fucking break into a million pieces, like an asteroid striking a planet. I’m bright lights and shards of stone drifting through a dark sky.
The release is so intense my legs actually shake, and I hold tighter to the headboard, keeping Taxi’s head in place as I ride out the aftershocks until I collapse back on the bed, like I’ve fallen to earth from the heavens.
With a slow, deliberate glide up where I’m spent, Taxi gives a soft kiss to my tip, then climbs up my body.
Our eyes meet again, and she swipes her thumb against the corner of her mouth.
“Pure kryptonite,” I tease, digging my hand into the hair on the side of her head and lifting to kiss her.